Vestigial
by WikedFae
Summary: Remnants of a life once lived resurface in the night of a life being cherished. Some experiences should not be buried and forgotten, but remembered. Established Evey/Finch One-shot; R


**Vestigial** by WikedFae

Summary: Remnants of a life once lived resurface in the night of a life being cherished. Some experiences should not be buried and forgotten, but remembered.

Disclaimer: The only thing I could possibly own of this franchise might be a Fawkesian mask, if I ever developed a penchant for them.

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Date: November 4th, 2029

It was well past midnight when Finch opened his eyes. Silver light filtered through the heavy curtains illuminating the breakfast table in front of the balcony doors. The chair facing the windows was occupied by a pensive figure. Her chestnut curls framed her face in a cascade of messy ringlets that stopped just short of her shoulders, and her eyes looked distant as if she were staring well beyond the skyscrapers lining the Thames. She had brought her legs up close to her body and firmly held onto them as her fingers gripped the sleeves of her terrycloth robe. Her skin was pale in the moonlight, her lips a light shade of pink and her eyes a deep chocolate; she was beautiful even in her sadness. The only sound was the rustling of sheets as he stood and crossed the room to join her.

"…Evey?" he asked as he gently pushed the robe back onto her shoulder where it had fallen down to reveal pale bare skin. "Everything alright?"

She was not startled, rather she calmly shifted her gaze to meet his, rooting him to the spot with the calculating and speculative gleam in her eyes. There was no trace of malevolence, but a feral type of instinct shone brightly in their depths. "Oh yes, Eric. Everything's perfect," she replied with a dry tone.

Quietly, he took a seat beside her and turned to begin the arduous task of waiting her out as she debated how best to explain. Silence reigned, bleeding through the window cracks and suffusing from their even breathing. Something about the moment seemed dead, even as the stars twinkled in the heavens and gusts of wind battered the poplar beneath the balcony. The gleam was fading from her eyes, he noticed as he shot her a furtive glance. It wouldn't be long now.

"It's hard to believe that two years ago, tonight, my life changed forever," she began. "It didn't seem right that it should, I thought at the time, but now, I'm not so sure. I was a frightened little girl, really…afraid of every shadow, every siren," At this, she shot him a wry grin that faded too quickly. "Even when I knew I'd done nothing wrong…I was always convinced my life depended on my survival…but it didn't really…not in the end." She cast her gaze into the darkened corners of the room. "In the end, we had given and received the most beautiful gifts, owed nothing to the other, and never apologized for anything."

"…Evey, what are you saying?" he asked, hesitantly.

"He gave me life," Evey replied, looking wistfully at the night sky. "…had me live like I hadn't in years…" Her thoughts perpetuated in her mind—Finch could see it in her eyes—but her mouth refused to voice them anymore.

Finch looked at her and swallowed thickly before prompting, "And…?"

"I gave him my love." The truth stung as it struck him. Her eyes were defiant in their stare as she met his gaze, just as they had been the moment she'd refused to relinquish her hold on that catalytic lever of change only a year ago. She'd been unapologetic then as she enunciated her resounding 'No,' and was just as unrepentant now. But now, her rebuff shook him to the core instead of only slightly wounding his pride and confidence. Something must have shown on his face because she hastened to reassure him.

"Eric, it's not that I don't care for you—I do, very deeply. I…it's a type of love I feel for you, but it's different from the kind of love I had for V. Have for V." He closed his eyes at this. "No," she continued, "I need to make this clear. There is a part of me that will always love him; that part will never die or fade because nothing came to fruition. It will always be the unfinished story, dangling its shattered possibility before me. It remains an impasse in my heart and all I can see beyond the chasm are my own imaginings. But it will never be real; I've accepted its existence and tried to move on."

"He tortured you." The words were harsher than Finch intended, but his sudden insecurity made him prickle.

"Yes, yes he did," Evey acknowledged. "I won't defend him against that charge. I won't say it wasn't wrong of him to do. Part of me still despises him for it, but I know that part is the one that didn't mind living in fear, that didn't want to speak out. The part that was weak. He lied, but I believed him. He revealed a truth and I embraced it. He gave me hope when my world was bleak. So how would it be right to hate him? All he did was set me free."

"By imprisoning you…" he muttered incredulously.

"By placing me in the physical cell that mimicked the emotional prison I'd constructed for myself, years before I met him," she corrected.

Unable to sit still any longer, he launched himself out of the chair and began pacing the room as his voice crescendoed. "By sticking you in a box, disguising himself, denying you your freedom, spinning a web of deceit, making you—"

"He never _made_ me do anything, except _make_ my _own_ decisions!" Evey spat back as she stormed off toward the balcony doors and seethed.

"He gave you this," Finch sighed, defeated, as he approached her and slowly reached out a hand to gently caress the scar on her forehead with the pad of his thumb. Bewilderment overtook her expression of fury before a sad smile usurped it.

"V never laid a hand on me—never in anger or true violence. Dominic gave me this."

"…Dominic?" Finch was utterly perplexed. "He never said…"

"It happened that day at the BTN, right after I maced him." She offered him a sheepish grin.

The relief he felt at knowing that enigma of a man hadn't hurt her manifested itself in a weak chuckle that grew into a mature laugh—and promptly burst. There were no more rationalizations, no more reasons, no more rebuttals, he realized. At least none she would acknowledge. But the truth remained. Regardless of who she had been before, he knew he loved the woman she was now. Piqued curiosity had evolved into friendship, friendship into caring, caring into love after that fateful night in the Underground. But the Evey Hammond of the past had died long before that night, yet he was mourning her loss with such acuity. And why? Because she had not yet given her love to that wreckage of a human? Would he have been capable of loving that Evey? Would he have even known of her existence had it not been for that man?

"Eric? Eric listen to me," she called, retrieving him from his reverie. "When I say I care for you and love you, it's not a lie. It's a truth most carefully examined, understood, and cherished. And I will always have him to thank for the fact I can feel life like this. I am in love with you, and love him for it. Does that make sense?" Her gaze glittered imploringly at him, compelling him to answer.

Stepping close behind her, he replied softly, "Somewhere in your head, I'm sure it does…and I will try my best to respect that. But it doesn't mean I will ever be fond of the fact." A breath escaped him as he drew her close to him. "I just wanted a chance to be your Edmond Dantes, for once."

She pulled back from him and said with a voice tinged with grief, "You could never be my Edmond. If you were, I'd be alone all over again." She paused. "If I'm to live again, I want to share the journey and never repent for my selfish drink of life. Be by my side, but not as Edmond. Be by my side as Eric and I will be by yours as Evey. As simple and true as that. No more disguises."

"No more disguises," he agreed. He knew their discussion had come to an end, even though he felt more lost and confused than he had when the evening began. Carefully, he placed a chaste kiss on her lips, pulling back ever so slightly to examine her face. He knew the hurt in his eyes was painfully clear, but enough of his tentative relief shone through that she did not appear overly concerned. As her hand slipped into his and tugged him towards the bed, his heart felt slightly buoyed on the undercurrent of turmoil playing out inside. It was with methodical and mechanical movements that he managed to climb into bed and take Evey into his arms. Long after her breathing had deepened, his eyes still pierced the darkness, searching for more solace than had been provided; and just as his eyelids fell shut from exhaustion, a wonderful thought came to his mind. _There would always be tomorrow_. Just as she had always proclaimed; the world was changing every day…but who had declared on what scale it would? _Yes, there would always be tomorrow_.

As night melted into day and the memories faded into the darker realms of the heart, sunlight poured in, dappling over the faces of two lost souls, remnants of a past. Two vestigial souls on the verge of finding each other in a new and fledgling future.

_Fin_

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